Sofia lay on the familiar bed in David's apartment, back in their small university town. The ceiling was the same, with its faint crack in the corner, and beyond the window were the familiar rooftops, not the cold gleam of the Thames. They were back. David still held her tightly but gently, his face taut, his eyes a mix of worry and relief.
"Sophie," he said softly, his voice catching slightly. "Are you okay? Alright?"
She nodded weakly, squeezing his hand. Her skin was still damp with sweat, her body trembling faintly. She tried to sit up, but he gently held her back.
"We're home," she exhaled, her voice hoarse. "That wasn't just a vision, David. We were really there."
He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "I know. But… what did you feel? Before it pulled us there? What happened?"
Sofia lowered her gaze, a faint flush creeping across her cheeks. She knew he was trying to understand, just as she was. "It was… intense," she began quietly, her fingers nervously twisting together. "When you… you know, started with my nipple, it was like my whole body caught fire. And then, when you… went further," she faltered, "I just… I was swept away. Waves, one after another, I couldn't stop."
David listened intently, a spark flickering in his eyes, though he fought to keep his composure. "Go on," he said softly.
"And then, when you…" Sofia hesitated, her voice dropping even lower, "every move you made… it was too much. Wonderful, but almost painful. I didn't even realize I was crying out. And at some point, everything… shifted. Not like before, not just a flash. It lingered."
David's brow furrowed, and he squeezed her hand a little tighter. "I felt it too," he said. "When I was… close to you, in that moment when you were crying out. I couldn't stop either. And then—bam—we were in that apartment, overlooking the Thames. London. It lasted maybe three minutes, maybe more. Then it was like we were yanked back."
Sofia swallowed hard, her breathing still uneven. "Three minutes," she whispered. "It wasn't just a picture, David. We were there. I felt the air, heard the city's hum… it was real."
He nodded, running a hand through her hair to soothe her, though his own expression betrayed unease. "It's tied to you, Sophie. To your… moments. But this time, we didn't just see it—we were there." He fell silent, his gaze drifting elsewhere. "I don't know how it works, and honestly, it's a little terrifying. But… there's something about it that makes my heart race. Like I'm scared, but I can't stop. I want to know what happens next."
She looked at him, her eyes a mix of fear and exhilaration, as if she were being drawn into an abyss. "Me too," she admitted. "It scares the hell out of me, but… I can't stop thinking about what might happen if we keep going. What if it pulls us somewhere else? Somewhere even further?"
David drew her closer, his lips brushing her forehead. "We'll figure it out, Sophie. Like we always do. I'm with you, no matter what."
They lay in silence, pressed against each other, their breathing gradually steadying. They had returned to their reality, but the memory of London, of that foreign apartment, of the strange connection that had swept them there, lingered vividly. It was their miracle, their fear, their secret—and they knew they had to unravel its meaning, for themselves and for each other.